


December to January 2019/2020 Drabble Set

by orphan_account



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drabble Collection, Drunkenness, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Explicit Language, Gen, M/M, Mentions of War, Mildly Dubious Consent, Snark, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A hundred more reasons why Vernon Roche is a whoreson, an idiot, a psychopath, and a good target.All chapters/drabbles were written for the Dreamwidth Community, 100words. Every Tuesday, a prompt is posted to challenge writers to come up with 100 words of their desired choosing. All prompts with their respected notes and warnings will be posted in each chapter.
Relationships: Foltest/Vernon Roche, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Vernon Roche, Radowid V Srogi | Radovid V the Stern/Vernon Roche
Kudos: 31
Collections: 100 Words





	1. Deliberate

**Author's Note:**

> Each new chapter is a different prompt. Entire set covers from December 2019 to January 2020, with prompts written marked in the notes.
> 
> \---
> 
> Prompt 143: In the Loop

“Wait-!” he coughed, but he was already being pinned against the stone wall, his hand clawing at Nilfgaard’s hand. Cold metal bit into his skin and he gasped, catching sight of the Emperor behind the bastard, looking bored. “We have a plan-!”

“I asked you to kill Radovid. Its been over three months,” Emhyr muttered, turning back to his - Foltest’s - desk. “You continue to test my patience.”

He quickly looked to the soldier for sympathy but found none. Eyes as black as the Great Sun’s armor stared back, unmoved. He choked. “Thaler said-”

“Silence him.”

His vision filled with pain.


	2. Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 144: Ache

He could feel it in his thighs, the stress of trying to remain upright and still taking a toll on his body. If he made a noise, someone would hear, and he already was too aware of every sound being made behind the thin wooden door.

Foltest seemed amused by this, of course, purposely stroking his cock harder, making him nearly crack his teeth with how hard he was clenching. He had been bored; asked him to help him pick out a wine. Bah. It was just to torture him.

And naturally, he loved it. What was wrong with them?


	3. Constraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 145: Itch

“Ah, Commander!” Silas whined for the fourth ploughing time. “It’s not fitting right! I can’t wear it!”

He was getting tired of this and he turned, his own leather jerkin stretching over his chest rather uncomfortably. But he wasn’t complaining. “Silas, I’ll give you two choices,” he hissed, making sure all of them heard. “You either wear it and shut up, or you wear it with no tongue.”

“Commander-”

“Pick one,” he snapped, satisfied when he shut up. Like he wanted to do this either. Nilfgaardian armor was ugly and tight. Ill-fitting. Constricting.

Bloody exposed.

This rouse better fucking work.


	4. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 146: Blind

Of course he had to bind his hands. It wasn’t enough to gag him and tie a cloth over his eyes. He had to be bound as well. What kind of court did Redania run if this was how its King responded to agreement for service? Not to mention he made it clear he had no choice. He was doing this for Temeria, not Redania.

But who knew the mind of Radvoid. Or why he was running a finger down his neck, forcing him to shudder in discomfort. This wasn’t going to end well, was it? Not for him, anyway.


	5. Atmosphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 147: Blur

There was too much smoke in the room. Incense, fire, sprayed perfume, tobacco in pipes. Inhaling was a chore and it tasted foul. Mixing the atmosphere with ale didn’t help, and he found himself struggling to stand straight, his eyes glazing over the crowded tavern.

Dandelion was boasting on the makeshift stage, surrounded by girls dressed like gilded peacocks. They swayed and giggled, flashing skin, and the place grew louder with the hollers of approval.

He had to get out, stumbling to the back door to inhale clean air. 

“Roche?” Ves said, and he ignored her.

He had to puke.


	6. Suave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 148: Spice

The dusting hadn’t helped; a mixture of sugar and powered mint. Obviously either stolen from a market or Geralt had sat down and made it himself. Neither thought was appealing. But the tingling it left, followed by the damned asshole’s tongue trailing after, lapping up where he had sprinkled it on his body.

Why did he allow him to do this? It was growing irritating.

“Roche,” Geralt muttered, trying to be suave. Sounded like he was going to cough in a second. Growling, rumbling voice. Not appealing.

But then he felt it against his thigh - _Geralt_.

Yeah. He remembered now.


	7. Transcend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 149: Electric

It was said that in the heat of a battle, one could feel the universe. Consciousness would transcend the body and it would be filled with the ghosts of war from the past - if a soldier let it. A bubbling feeling that grew from the stomach and spread to every fingertip and nerve.

Quietly, Foltest swirled his wine, contemplating the philosophy as he watched his hound once again double back, hacking at the Aedirn champion, clearly filled with such lust. Hellbent on victory.

He took a drink, feeling his bones sigh with its own tingling. How he missed that feeling.


	8. Oleander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 151: Poison

“You’ll be alright,” Roche huffed, trying to sound positive. Trying.

“Commander-” Alek begged, clutching his side. “It’s-”

“Stop talking,” he ordered. He had to. This was a war, he had to be cold about it, even if he could see the boy’s life seeping from him with every second. The arrows that had pierced were beyond cruel; Coated in oleander and magic. As green as the hills yet toxic as a plague.

“Hurts,” Alek kept whispering, the tears carving lines down his dirty face. He stayed by him, hushing as he felt the ground quake.

He was just a kid.


	9. Cried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 152: Capture

“You know,” Roche said casually, wiping down the pair of hoof clippers so that the blood didn’t get the hinge sticky. “The longer you prolong this, the worse it’ll get.”

His captive - spy? - only sobbed. “I told ‘ya. I don’t know anything!”

No one knew anything. He was going to have to apply more pressure. “I hear that a lot, you know. But, funny thing is, once you really carve into a man, they seem to know a lot.”

The man wailed. How irritating.

“Now, how about this? Answer my questions or lose your balls.” Roche sighed. “Up to you.”


	10. Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 153: Tease

It was easy for him to be judged as being brash and impulsive. To an extent, he would agree that he was. But there was something beyond aggravating when he was deliberately taunted. Like a wolf being baited with fresh meat.

Roche knew what he was doing. He had to. Unless he was a doppelganger, there was no way the uptight and frigid Commander would be so naive not to notice his arousal. Loose shirts, misaligned belts, and provocative, tight straps. Pretending he had just finished hunting, yet no kill at his hip.

And those damned eyes. Taunting; Tempting. _Begging_.


	11. Persuade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 172: Teach

“You see, Ves,” Roche said casually, his arm barely moving as the man under him struggled in vain, head submerged in water that had been purposely left to freeze in the winter air. “With a little persuasion, you can acquire any information.”

“Is that so?” she asked, careful not to sound horrified. Her Commander let up for a second, just enough for his subject to be allowed to surface and gasp for air, before his head was back down in it. “What did he do again?”

“It’s what he didn’t do,” Roche said. “Talk of treason is to be reported.”


	12. Dissection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 173: Quote X. Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift. - Mary Oliver

He never was one for cliches on shadow and light. When women mused how he looked as if he was touched by omens or whatever, it was just another moment he ignored. For him, their delusions only added to his cynicism. His hands were bloodied by choice - so the King would be spotless. His sins marked upon stone so Temeria could breathe. Every hero had their reversal existing in the same space. 

He was born poor; A whore’s son. Worthless. Knights came from luster and silk. A sun’s ray in thunderstorms. Silence that hope, and what remained? Happiness needed filth.


	13. Bribed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 174: Gift

He was paralyzed, his expression fighting to be neutral as he stared at the sack of coins in front of him. Radovid tilted his head, clearly growing impatient with his continued silence.

“Take it,” the King commanded. Roche remained still.

It felt dirty to accept it. As if he was persuaded with coin like some common beggar or, gods help him, assassin. Count Hethall had been an enemy of Redania, yes, but he also had made the mistake of slandering Temeria. He didn’t do it for bloody Redania, he killed for Temeria. He was not Redania’s whore.

This was dangerous.


	14. Starry-Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 175: Awe

He could see the longing in her eyes, how her gaze followed the streaming coats and frocks that trailed to the center of the hall. Each woman attending dressed lavishly and ostentatious, with furs dyed white and clothing attempted to match the deep blue of the Temerian Crest. It only made him roll his eyes and he could see from his position that even Foltest - dressed in deep blues and burgundy - looked as if he wanted several glasses of wine.

“Ves,” Roche reminded her, not caring on his tone. “Stop gawking. You’re to look for anyone suspicious.”

“I am.”

“Doubtful…”


	15. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 176: Dismay

Something deep inside him rattled as he looked over the sketches; war crimes, patrol movements, mass graves. Each hastily done sketch of course paled to what was witnessed, but they say volumes on what was happening.

He thought they had discussed this, yet what did he expect from an Emperor? Nilfgaard was always brazen in its treatment of the countries it overtook and Temeria was going to suffer just like the rest. Only he couldn’t retaliate. He couldn’t do anything.

“Roche,” Ves urged, having seen the drawings herself. “We must strike back. We have to-!”

“No.” The words pained him.


	16. Careless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 177: Blunder

“Faster!” he shouted at his mount, the damned horse already letting out hard pants, its legs and chest frothed with sweat, but it wasn’t going fast enough. If he didn’t get past the border, the Redanian Calvary would have him in less time than it took for a sparrow to take flight. He could hear the dull sound of hooves close behind, better trained horses riding for his hide.

Of course he had to fuck up something so easy. Stealing documents was an in and out job, only he had to get sloppy. Too confident, too greedy. Careless.

Plough him.


	17. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 178: Joke

Drinks. Why did this always happen when drinks were involved? He was actually having fun for once. A smile even crossed his lips when Dandelion began singing in that screechy, irritating voice he used when he tried to seem suave and fanciful. Belting out a love ballad between Emperor Emhyr and a sheep.

Except the more ale in his system, the less intelligent he became until he couldn’t comprehend how he got trapped in the corner by the Witcher until it was too late.

“Drunk-!” he tried to say, but Geralt only pressed forward.

“Your room,” he muttered. “You promised.”


	18. Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 179: Love Letter

It was perverse, sorting through his King’s items and garments. These were things meant for only royal hands to touch; silks, cottons, soft leather. Each had been expertly folded for the excursion so his Majesty could shine when his victory was announced.

How cruel it was that he now lay on a slab, his body being prepared for encasement in a tomb. If he had stayed on his heels, if the dragon-! No. There was no point reliving it. If he did, he’d have to turn to the bottle.

His fingers instead tugged at paper. Letters from Maria.

The _bitch_.


End file.
